


Handing Over The Reins

by hannibanni753



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Anal Play, BDSM, Bond just wanted to play, Bond takes care of Q, Bondage, Dubious Consent, Exploring, I'm bad at this, Insecurity, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Public Humiliation, Q is a virgin, Riding Crop, Silk - Freeform, Slightly - Freeform, Submission, Submissive Q, Subspace, Teasing, Violence, blindfold, maybe? - Freeform, so far - Freeform, surprise, well as public as Q-Branch gets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4947295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannibanni753/pseuds/hannibanni753
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond wants to play Q for a sucker. And of course, he ends up harrassing him in the process - right in the middle of Q-Branch. The outcome, however, to everybody's surprise is not Bond being banned from Q-Branch for life, but a very pliable and submissive Q.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how many chapters this is gonna be (not many) and I don't know how to end it. But I know I don't want to leave it there. I'll do my best. But beware :D  
> I own nothing.

Bond stepped up behind Q, who was working in concentration at his laptop.

"Hello Q." He jumped, with the voice so close to his ear.

"007! Don't you-"

"You're under arrest. Your Majesty's orders." He was pushed down on the desk before him with his arm on his back.

He huffed at the surprising force. After a moment of trying to get out of Bond's grip, exsperated he demanded:

"On what grounds?!"

Unable to contain his displeasure, his voice edged on anger. He had no time for Bond's games. He told him so. Bond showed no signs of amusement and kept his tone neutral, when he answered

"Corrupting classified data of government property."

"What? I did no such thing!" Now he was concerned, "Release me, Bond. Please, I'm sure there's been a misunderstanding. There's no need to detain me like that... I'll cooperate, all right!?"

"Sure you will. Next thing I know, all the servers crash. No, I think not." Q was now fidgeting under the pressure, both physical and psychological. What had he gotten himself into, again? His staff was already gaping at the scene, which didn't help the blooming shade of red in his face. When Bond shifted, Q thought he was allowed up again at least, but instead he felt Bond's other hand on the small of his back. Slowly it wandered down to his behind.

"BOND! This is hardly professional behaviour!" Oh God - he worked his way shamelessly into his trousers, kneading his way down Q's crack.

"Good thing I'm not here on official business then." _What?_ Q was holding his breath as the words sank in.

"Seems like I fooled you." Bond chuckled lightly. His fingers were now delicately circling the muscles around Q's hole. So when he really wanted to shout and throw Bond off his back, what came out was a low moan. He almost hoped that nobody had heard, but the room had fallen silent and all attention was on the two of them. Q wanted to sink below ground in embarrassment.

Untroubled by the audience Bond went on caressing the sensitive spot with his hand, while he captured the second arm of Q and held them both in place by the wrists with his other hand. Q's mouth was open now, desperately trying to catch his breath and keeping his composure. That was a lost battle as soon as Bond slipped a finger inside him. He was about to draw in a breath, so when it happened, he couldn't control the high whimper that came out instead.

\--------

Q-Branch was at a loss. They knew all the emergency protocols, had seen all kinds of outcomes of missions and were used to dealing with them while keeping their cool. But the scene that presented itself before them, left them speechless. Their very Quartermaster was being harrassed - if that was the right term?! - by 007, to them a very threatening looking, strong assassin right in their midst, and they didn't know what to do.

So standing there, they watched in awe, as their forever oh so composed computer genius let himself be manhandled (seduced?!?) by a Double-Oh. The bizarre thing about that picture was that both men were fully clothed, Bond in a very expensive suit, and Q in his typically ill-fitting clothes.

And while at the beginning only Bond was oblivious to the stares of, like, thirty people, it seemed that now, even the Quartermaster seemed to relax and surrender to Bond's relentless stimulation.

\-------

Whenever Q tried (half-heartedly) to get away, the agent just pressed him down that little bit harder – and it was _delicious!_ It was such a rush. Q had never experienced something like this before. His brain was floating. Slowly he lost himself in the feeling. It was coming onto him with such a force that he couldn’t stop it, even if he had wanted to. He didn’t know how. He couldn’t think of anything anymore – he just gave in and let himself feel.

He felt delicate fingers pressing against him _there_ , where he was so sensitive. They were caressing him, shifting and exploring. He was so touch-starved, had never allowed himself that level of intimacy. He felt the pressure on the small of his back whenever he dared to move just the slightest inch. Felt his arms strained further up. Felt the pain in his muscles transform into hot pulsing pleasure, pumping through his veins. It was glorious.

And there was his smell – the sterile air of Q-Branch invaded by the familiar aftershave, and sweat – probably mostly his own – he breathed it all in, couldn’t help it. And there was something else still, something he couldn’t quite fathom… _Oh_ – it was arousal, and it was his own at that! He was so turned on, and he couldn’t remember why that should be a bad thing either.

He was staring forward, but he didn’t see anything nor perceive any of his surroundings anymore. He might as well have closed his eyes. There was something in the back of his mind, something that bothered him, but he squeezed his eyes shut and shoved it away. The only thing that remained was the bliss of handing over the reins to someone else for once…

\-------

Bond was astonished at how pliable the Quartermaster suddenly was.

“Please…” Q let out with a deep-drawn sigh and in a voice so soft, Bond wouldn’t have believed that such a sound could be drawn from the genius, not if his life had depended on it.

\-------

When Bond suddenly drew back, Q - not knowing what had hit him - slowly tried to gather himself, righting his glasses with a shaking hand and attempted to straighten up. But apparently Bond was in a very playful mood, because it was never his intention to release Q so easily and gripped him by the shoulders to draw him back. So Q almost lost his balance, too slow to flail about with his arms. However, he didn't have to worry since Bond held him so very tight that he was now leaning against him, still a bit dazed.

Finally Bond's agenda behind that last move became clear when he loosened Q's tie to throw it aside, unzipped his cardigan - _halfway_ , unbuttoned his shirt - _halfway_ \- and drew it all down Q's shoulders, which effectively both trapped his upper arms and exposed his pale chest.

He now held the amenable Quartermaster, who indeed had submitted to Bond right in the middle of Q-Branch…

He couldn’t believe it, and he doubted it was all intentional on Q’s side. He suspected that Q never had experienced this, never dealt with submission – or if anybody asked Bond, even sexuality. Figuratively speaking, it had caught him with his pants down. Yes, figuratively still.

But if this was true, Q was a very fragile thing at the moment. Inexperienced and all open for Bond to do as he pleased. He had to tread very carefully here, otherwise Q might fall into subdrop afterwards…

While clutching him with one arm into a tight embrace, Q’s back against his chest, he decidedly grabbed his jaw from behind. He pulled his face back to let his head rest in the curve between Bond’s shoulder and neck. Now he could at least get a better look at Q’s expression. His face was relaxed – suddenly he looked really, really young, all jokes aside – his eyes were fixed to a point in the distance, but not seeing. It was almost scary how at peace he was. That was also the first time Bond noticed the long dark eye lashes that were half-hidden by Q’s glasses. Bond was surprised at how handsome he really was. His hands were uselessly hanging by the sides - it wasn’t like he couldn’t jerk free, if he ever decided to.

But he didn’t, and instead he patiently waited for Bond to make his next move. He seemed truly and wholeheartedly gone. A wave of protectiveness surged up in Bond. With his thumb he deliberately retraced Q’s soft pink lips, which made him open his mouth just one bit and produced the very gentlest of sighs. With his eyes half closed, he presented a delicious sight indeed. Bond would bet his Aston that if he pushed his finger but a little bit inside, Q would suck it.

But he wouldn’t do that. That wasn’t the point – that would border on humiliation. For Q at least that is, Bond somehow knew. He hadn’t aimed at humiliating the young man. He had honestly just come in to have a bit of fun and play with him, being so uptight and all. He had had absolutely no idea that it could possibly have had such an outcome. Otherwise he wouldn’t have started something like that in public. He had already gone too far. It might undermine Q’s authority, which had never been Bond’s intention. Q was way too precious to him, professionally and personally. He would see to it that this wouldn’t leave Q-Branch. That shouldn’t be a problem though; the bunch of them was loyal, after all.

For now, his priority was to get Q somewhere a little more private, to see him through the experience.

“We’re going to have to move now. Come on, Q, step by step.” Slowly he got him to put one foot in front of the other. Arm still wrapped around him, he directed him to his office. When they were inside, he closed the blinds, shutting all the gaping stares out and closed the door – not before threatening the minions with an awful lot of pain, if word of any of this got out. The threat was well received.

In an instant he was back with Q to sooth him, for he had already started shivering at the short loss of guidance.

“You’re doing so well, Q!” He murmured in his ear. Gently he pushed him to sit down on the small couch in the corner, clothes still shoved down his arms and all. He sat down behind him and pulled him close, lacing both their hands together.

But that didn’t seem to be enough for Q. After a while he became twitchy and when he started to wind, Bond twisted the clothes that trapped Q tighter and pulled his hands to the small of his back again. But this time he didn’t hold them there, but pressed his body so close that they were automatically trapped and Bond had both his hands free. With one hand he reached up to stroke Q’s head, twirling strands of his hair in Bond’s fingers. The other hand lazily touched Q wherever it found bare skin.

Bond would have loved to try and test out his theory further that Q also responded well to pain. After all, he had not triggered his surrender when he had pushed him down, but when he had held him with such force that it must have hurt. But Q – always the workaholic – seemed to be dozing off. Now that he was lying down, exhaustion must have clawed on him and pulled him under. So Bond let him be.

\-------

When Q came to there was a short moment of confusion. But in an instant he started up, finding himself secured in the arms of James Bond. He turned around to look at him, and Bond let him. With his clothes put back on and rumpled, Bond saw in his wide green eyes as the memories trickled in.

He looked as if he were about to slap Bond and at the same time too ashamed to keep eye-contact. He opened his mouth, uncertain. Bond just watched Q’s inner battle and found his Quartermaster at a loss for words for the first time.

“This is… I don’t…know what to say?” Q almost made it sound like a question, unbelieving of his own behaviour.

He tried to sit up, but when he attempted to get up, he realized how shaken he felt. So he rather chose to stay seated for a moment.

“What time is it?” His eyes were fixed on a fairly interesting point in the corner of his office. _He is struggling with this_ , Bond observed assessingly.

“It’s 04:47 pm. You’ve been out for forty minutes.”

Q nodded to the floor.

“Oh good. I slept during working hours. That will earn me points with M for the budget.” He tried to joke light-heartedly.

But Bond saw through it. Q was devastated at his new insight into his personality. Bond could only imagine what it was like to have so many witnesses for something you couldn’t even grasp to understand yourself.

“Look, Q, if I had known what effect my behavior would have on you, I wouldn’t have done it.” Q looked up at him for a second, searching his face. Bond held his gaze, and, when Q broke the contact, he added a bit more teasingly than he should have and feigning disbelief,

“And now I have proof that you’re just human after all!” That at least brought out a little smile on Q’s face, before it vanished again.

Bond felt the mood lighten up just a little, so he sought to get up to find Q some tea. As he left the close proximity of Q, he felt him shift, but he didn’t say something. So it was a good thing that Bond turned around before he left the room, only to see a display of feelings cross Q’s face.

Q had tensed up, when Bond broke contact.

Immediately he felt lost, which confused him. He only knew that he desperately needed Bond to stay. But he didn’t know how to ask for it. He was too embarrassed and grimaced. He didn’t know what possessed him, but he sure knew it wasn’t normal to crave for another person’s intimacy – after… whatever had happened out there. He drew his arms tight and rubbed at the goose bumps that appeared. Only then he realized that Bond had stopped, and looked up as if caught.

Bond came back, sat down and pulled Q wordlessly into his arms.

“Q… do you know what’s happening to you?”

Q gratefully accepted the warm embrace and shook his head.

“I can neither grasp why I’m feeling so vulnerable right now, nor comprehend how I let myself slip in front of so many people. I didn’t care, Bond. How could it not have mattered to me in that moment? I’m disappointed in myself, in my lack of discipline. Shocked really…” He confessed to Bond’s chest.

“It’s alright, Q. You dissociated and all that was left were your primal needs… - ” A thought crossed Bond’s mind. “Have you ever dealt with submission?”

Q froze, and tried to straighten up.

“No.” He offered reluctantly.

“Maybe that’s the problem. You obviously have a very submissive side. Maybe it was just a matter of time until it showed.” Bond reasoned. And then he added with a smirk. “Maybe you’re lucky that I’m the one to find out.”

“Hardly, Bond.” First listening to Bond’s – admittedly reasonable - theory, Q was now getting really angry at him, because apparently he took this subject much too lightly for Q's liking. “Don’t flatter yourself. And besides, this isn’t about you. If you are correct, it could have taken anyone who just applied enough violence. If anything, that shows how out of line you were. Now everyone will think I’m a pushover, all because of your fatuitous games. Don’t come near me again!” The more he thought about it, the more enraged he became.

Suddenly he found himself pinned to the couch again, anger dissolving into thin air. Instead his eyes were growing wide, because there it was again. He felt some invisible weight lifted off him.

“I’m sorry I gave you the impression of not taking this seriously.” Bond answered in a low, controlled voice. “I assure you, I’m going to handle you with great care. And don’t you think for one second that you can dismiss me!" Bond pierced Q with his eyes. "You don’t have to fear that I’ll abandon you.” He added in a warmer tone, until Q nodded meekly.

“Very well, then. Wrap up your work things. I’m going to take you home for the weekend.” He released Q out of his grip and helped him up, without losing skin contact.

Q was thrown off his guard. In the back of his mind he wanted to protest, but he knew Bond couldn’t be swayed. He was looming behind him, and he wouldn’t let any room for disobedience. That made it easier for Q to give in to _follow_ orders, for once. He would never admit this to anyone. And he had a feeling that Bond knew.


	2. Chapter 2

On their way to the car, Q moved stiffly. He was aware of the stares that followed him in Q-Branch. But the rest of the way people seemed to behave normal towards him. When they got to Bond's car he extended his manners to Q for the first time by opening the door for him. Q clutched his rucksack close to his chest and awkwardly got in. He was silent throughout the drive and directed his gaze safely out the window. Bond broke the silence.

"Do you want to stay at your flat or mine? Because then we either have to get clothes from your home or mine first!" Q turned around to look at him puzzled. So Bond was serious about the weekend...

"I think... I don't know, to be honest." On one hand he felt safe at home, in his own flat. But on the other hand, he was reluctant to let Bond stay in his safe haven. If it all went bad he couldn't leave...

"Maybe at your place?"

"Sure. Whatever makes you more comfortable." Bond answered with a knowing smile. So when they arrived at Q's flat, Bond waited in the car, until Q obediently came back out with his bag.

\-------

"Take a look around, make yourself at home. I'll make you some tea." Bond said as he undressed.

Bond's flat was vast. It was light with ceiling to floor windows, white walls, modern furniture. There were not many personal statements. It would have felt cold and artificial if it weren't for the fluffy huge carpets in warm colours, which Q found in every room. It was also very tidy. Q found it quite tasteful. But as impeccable as Bond's wardrobe was, it didn't surprise him. He sat his bag down in the (huuuuge) bedroom. Still a bit unsettled, he made his way into the kitchen, where he found Bond waiting with the tea.

"So..."

"So." Bond agreed. Q had resorted to unknown territory, and that made him feel very insecure. He didn't like it. He was scared that he might seem too clingy. He didn't know what was allowed and what not.

"Do you want to talk about it first, or do you trust me enough to learn more about yourself as we go?" Bond asked matter-of-factly. Q opened his mouth, but again he wasn't sure what to say. What he knew, was that he needed to get his control back and make sure something like that would never happen in public again.

"Well, I haven't given it much thought before. There was never the need..."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I know that much that there are rules between people who engage in such activities. I know there has to be consent on both parts and they have to make sure beforehead that there will be no limits violated. But if you want to know my limits, I can't tell you much."

"Now we're getting somewhere. So I think we can agree at what we've established so far. You enjoy letting go and you don't mind my rough handling you. What about bondage?"

Q almost choked on his tea. Suddenly he became very self-conscious, which was so untypical for him. But he was standing in Bond's flat discussing with him his intimate desires, which - on top of all - he didn't have any idea about. God forbid, Bond found out about his utter lack of prior sex life. Blushing spectacularly at that thought, he lowered his gaze.

"What are you thinking, Q? You need to be honest and open about this, if you want it to work. Trust goes both ways here." Bond urged him. "You've already shown me your trust today, which, I must add, is very humbling, because I don't know how I've earned that."

After a while of silence and growing tension, Bond slowly came closer, cornering Q and putting both his hands next to Q on the counter without touching him. He just stood there, looming so closely that Q had no longer the chance to stare at the floor without touching Bond. So he lifted his face again, but when he found his lips and nose bare millimeters away from Bond's he abruptly turned it to the side. Now he felt Bond's breath on his throat, when the agent repeated in a lower tone:

" _What about bondage, Q_?"

Pressing himself strongly against the counter, his hands too, he explained to the side:

"I don't know. I've never tried it... But I-,I'd like to. If... if you want to." Rewardingly Bond's lips brushed over Q's skin where jaw and throat connected. Q shuddered.

"Beautiful. So bondage plus. What about pain?"

Bond gave him a little space to consider his answer. But Q was so nervous now that he was shaking and clasping the wood behind him, still not turning his head back. Oh my God, he had just given Bond permission to tie him up! And God knows what afterwards! He hadn't even had sex before, and was now rendering himself helpless to the Double-Oh-Agent. He had to _tell_ him, and soon. He swallowed and then made an effort to look at the agent again.

Those blue eyes, ever watchful. But they didn't have that piercing edge to them that Bond usually used to unsettle people. But of course he wouldn't need that now, when Q was so obviously sweating under his attention. If he didn't tell Bond now, he might not get a chance anymore. But when the silence stretched, Bond made no move to throw him over his shoulder and carry him to his bed to put him out of his misery.

"Spill it, Q, I won't move until you _confess_!" He stressed that last word in a way that made Q feel very dirty, while Bond's eyes were sparkling. He cocked his head, holding Q's gaze expectantly, and it was such an ordinary gesture in relation to this bizarre situation that Q had to blink. He let out a breath, which he didn't know he had held.

"Bond, I... I -"

"It's James, Q. I think we're past that now."

"Fine, James then." Q cleared his throat. "I think I might need to mention that I haven't had... sex... before."

His eyes switched nervously between Bond's face and the floor. He couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see a reaction. He was scared that Bond might laugh at him now. Bond took the sight in, face expressionless. But he was slightly shocked. Sure, Q was uptight and often a smart-alec pain in the arse. Yet he was also quite handsome. Take away that nerdy glasses and those atrocious clothes, and here goes the eye-catcher. But he said neither of those things.

"That's...surprising." He offered instead. "But there's no need to be so tense. I'll be careful."

Q seemed relieved. No laughing. He showed a shy smile. The view of it was astonishing. It was so different to what Bond was used to in MI6. On one hand there was a confident, snarky Q, not lightly shaken and emotions not easily put forth. Then there was this new side of him and it was strangely sexy. If Bond was not careful, he might even fall for him.

So they stood there, looking at each other in awe. Mindlessly Bond's thumb started to stroke Q's forearm where they touched. Bond could kiss him now, and it would be nice, too. But he felt that it wasn't the right thing for them now. Somehow they haven't come so close to each other yet and then again, they were already further down that path.

"Come on, now." Bond took Q by the arm and led him towards the bedroom. "Don't worry about sex just yet. That's not the main reason you came here today. One step at a time." They entered the room and Bond went on:

"How about we try a few things out now, and you tell me whether you like it or not."

He urged Q gently towards the bed, never letting go of his arm. Q was unusually quiet, but not as tense as before. Bond knew from his observations earlier this day that Q would immediately give in to whatever Bond was up to. He liked to submit when forced into it, it seemed to him. But what Bond wanted to know was how far he could push him to submit actively.

"You want to submit to me. So show me!"

"What?" Q asked in confusion and added without thinking "... _Sir?_ "

Bond let out a surprised laugh, but when he saw the hurt expression on Q's face, he reassured him quickly.

"You don't have to call me that... There are better and in my eyes more tasteful ways to express your submission, for instance your body language. Unless of course you feel more comfortable using that term? I just don't like those titles because when a person calls someone that, it's not as powerful as actual submissive behaviour."

"Ok, then I don't want to call you that. It feels strange to me. It just sort of came out." Q admitted. "But I don't understand what you want me to show you...?"

"See, Q, today I took control over you and you let go. You submitted because I made you. There was the illusion that you had no choice and that's why it was okay for you to give in. Often, it's easier on the sub that way. But now I want to see how far you want to go on your own. Imagine a way to express your obedience to me."

Q didn't like the sound of that. Not at all. Bond had struck home. That was exactly the point. Q was way too embarrassed to admit _actively_ that he liked to be treated rough. It just didn't feel okay for Q to have such 'kinks' in his position. He felt torn. He had a feeling that if he didn't make an effort, James would know. And he would be disappointed. Maybe even send him away? But Q needed him. One thing was for sure. It wasn't only about submission for him, but about submitting _to Bond!_

Desperately he let himself fall on his knees in front of the agent, looking down. His hands were trembling.

"Q?" Bond was concerned. "What's wrong?"

"I... It's hard for me. I like it better when you make me do this. I can't stand humiliating myself willingly. It feels just too wrong."

"Then why do it?"

"I don't want to disappoint you, because I need you to not send me away!" He was close to tears.

"Q!" His sharp voice let Q jerk up. "I told you that I wanted to see how far you are _willing_ to go! If you can't do it at all, that's fine too! And it is never about what you think I might expect of you. This is about what you need, got it?"

"Yes. Okay..." Bond helped him up.

"Besides, we are just testing out what is good and what is bad, alright?!"

Q nodded. Bond hugged him and gave him a peck on the forehead, rubbing his arms up and down soothingly. Q noticeably relaxed. Okay, so this was interesting. Bond wouldn't have to worry too much about handling Q too rough, because that was apparently the key to unleash Q's submission. _Let's see if that extends to verbal treatment_ , Bond thought.

Releasing him, Bond stepped back and commanded in a slightly sharp tone:

"I'll be back in a minute and by then I'll expect you to be undressed!" With that he left the room and a very befuddled Q behind.

But the genius didn't dare dawdling. He had come here, and now he had to go through with it - as insecure as he felt about showing his naked body. His professional conscience flashed up for a second. Nonetheless he stripped completely, and only hesitated for a second at his pants. But since technically he was alone in the room, even that was okay.

In the middle of the room he waited. Only when Bond marched back in, his hands went straight to cover his private parts and his eyes aimed towards the floor.

"Hands off."

Reluctantly and nervously Q obeyed. His cheeks flushed again. He was now forever unable to straighten up his gaze.

Therefore, he also couldn't see what Bond had brought with him.


	3. Chapter 3

A riding crop. And a foulard; which was scarlet.

"Kneel in front of the bed."

Q obeyed immediately and got down facing the wall and the head board across the bed.

"Don't sit back. Now, give me your hands."

Gracefully he wrapped Q's arms in the blazing red material, knotting the ends together, while Q watched anxiously. Since it was a long piece of cloth, Bond pulled Q's arms across the bed as far as possible - so that Q had to lean forward and strech his arms - and tied the ends to the head bed posts on either side. And it was a sight to behold: The scarlet V stood out in the room, and at the centre of the bed it joined the pale skin of the Quartermaster, whose arms were artfully enwrapped. Stretched out on the bed as he was, his arse stood out and his tension mostly showed in the manner he compressed his kneeling legs.

Letting the feeling of this new position sink in, Q took in a shivering breath. He was excited and tense - and yet somehow a little calmer now. Physically he was trapped.

Bond couldn't help but admire the view. In a flash of wit he tested Q's flexibility and satisfied, he pushed his feet to the outer bed posts to fixate them as well. At the awkward angle and strain of his limbs Q shifted and nervously glanced back over his shoulder, but otherwise didn't complain.

"You'll tell me, if it gets too much, right?" Q's nod wasn't sufficient, apparently. "Say it."

"Yes, James, I'll tell you, if it becomes too much." Q answered in a meek voice and placed his head in the sheets.

Bond sat down next to Q, looked at him and waited. In the silence he could feel Q drifting and relaxing. Minutes passed. When he was about to fall asleep, Bond unexpectantly stroked down Q's spine all the way with the lightest touch. Q instantly gasped in a shock and arched up, wanting more. When he didn't get it, he let out a low whine and let himself sink back down. It was divine.

What Q hadn't realized was that Bond didn't use his hand but the riding crop. So when Bond let it snap down on Q's arse cheek, he yelped and whipped his head around to face Bond, wide-eyed. The tormentor just smirked at him and got up.

"Face forward again!"

Trying to catch his breath, Q reluctantly turned back towards the wall, unable to see Bond's next strike. But he heard it. This time he was prepared. But he still couldn't supress a whimper at the smack - precisely on the same spot. Three more followed, this time in a quick succession and all on the same spot on his left side. So now it was burning. Q grunted. He had difficulty breathing. His hands clinging to the linen of the bed he tried to breathe through the pain, which was now becoming a blooming fire on his behind. Being a one-sided, hot pain somehow made it worse and itching. He felt his cock twitch. Tensely he stared straight ahead waiting for the next hit. But it didn't come. Bond gave him a break.

"You alright? Was that pain good or bad?"

"Good." Q hissed between his teeth, impatiently wanting to throw around his sarcasm but knew it wouldn't help his situation. "Don't stop please. Or else I just might start calling you master after all!"

Chuckling, Bond brushed his fingers over the red streaks that blossomed on the otherwise white skin. Q twitched.

"So eager... It seems that pain is a Yes too, then." He smiled, stroking Q's delicate flesh. "But for now, that's enough I think."

"NO - Please. Please, Bond! I can take more. Please go on."

"First lesson: You're in my hands now, and I decide, when or if you can take more. And since we're just testing the waters I say it's enough." Bond answered decidedly.

Q slumped back down in defeat and let out a huff. Bond had barely touched him, had in fact only started. The stimulation was not nearly enough to get him anywhere, Q had no experience whatsoever - so why the hell was his body reacting as if his long-forgotten desires had awoken? He terribly ached for more. Especially his private parts, he thought dryly, as he felt the heat gathering.

Bond watched with intense interest, as the young man's shyness made way for his eagerness.

"Hmmm, but maybe something else..." He thought out loud and slowly spread Q's arse cheeks with his thumb and middle finger. Q froze in a mixture of anticipation and fear, as Bond rubbed his index finger around Q's hole. The muscles twitched at the dry tease and Bond took the invitation for what it was.

He removed himself to get lube, gloves and tissues. He pulled on one glove and applied some lube on his fingers. Then he gently started massaging Q's rim, who first tried to hold still but soon started to writhe helplessly. Bond was very careful, since he knew that Q had never had sex and therefore never had been prepared like this.

Q - indeed new to this experience - couldn't help but wheeze at the unrelenting touch of his sensitive skin. He almost jolted when Bond ran his fingers alongside his bum cleft and therefore didn't notice when the first finger glided into him. But after a moment his body realized and all the muscles clenched together. His breath stuttered. Bond held still for a while.

In a moment of panic, Q tried to jerk free only to be reminded that he had been tied up by a British secret agent.

Soothingly Bond's free hand stroked up and down Q's lean back until his breathing evened out.

"You're doing very well, Q." He praised. "Tell me if you want me to go on."

While Q tried to get a hold of himself - the feeling of a finger in his hole ever present and not helping - , Bond was slowly caressing his back with his free hand. Finally Q said,

"Yes, please."

"Yes, what?" Bond couldn't help but tease at Q's almost school boy voice, knowing full well that Q didn't like to ask. With gritting teeth, Q specified:

"Please open me up with your fingers and... make me climax." He concluded uncertainly.

And a bit more confident, when nothing happened

"Go on then!"

Q sounded way too much like his normal composed self in Bond's opinion. He made it his destination to change that.

So - finally - Bond started to move his finger inside Q. He worked slowly and gently, taking note whenever Q shivered from his movement. After a while he withdrew his finger with a plop, which made Q shove his head into the sheets to hide in embarrassment. Bond enjoyed this a little bit too much, showing a broad grin at Q's reaction. Alas, the Quartermaster couldn't see it.

So Bond went on and added a second finger in order to go deeper and fill him out better. First he had to wait, until Q had adjusted a little, but then his fingers investigated further. Q's breath came shorter and when Bond eventually touched his prostate, Q let out a high pitched moan. Bond immediately drew back an inch and Q tried to follow in bucking up his behind.

The endeavour however was in vain, since he had no leeway in that direction. All he wanted was to find some friction in Bond's touch. Noone had ever touched him there, the sensation was unbelievable.

The agent, however, had just begun to play.

Invoking the sadist within - Q's errection was already full on - Bond withdrew his hand completely.

"What... What are you doing? Please, Bond, go on, pleeease!" And Bond enjoyed his begging, almost hysterical Q. _That's more like it._

Then, without a comment, he got up and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

The genius pulled at the silk rag desperately and without success. He had to wait for the mercy of bloody-fucking Bond.

Being alone for a moment left him to cool down and to contemplate his situation. He began to feel uncomfortable. What was he doing here? What kind of sick psycho was he to let this be done to himself? Being slapped, _really?_ And not to mention this position - But before he could indulge further into his happy musings, Bond was right back, as if sensing Q's change of mood.

"It's perfectly normal, you know. There are many people who like and even need this. For some it's the release of every day's stress. And your job hardly gives you room to laze around."

"How did you know that I was thinking about that?"

"Well, it's obvious and natural to feel uncomfortable, when you're completely new to this. Plus, you look like a nervous wreck, at least in comparison to your usual composure."

And with that he took off Q's glasses and blindfolded him.

" _Bond!!!_ "

"Just give me five minutes, Q! If you still don't like it by then, I'll take it off again. Deal?"

"Okay..." Q trusted Bond, ridiculous as it was.

When Bond took Q's eyesight away, his other senses hightened instantly, which was precisely what Bond was aiming for (not that Q needed the extra stimulation).

Bond walked around the bed to see the Quartermaster turning his head in order to listen for any clues. But Bond made sure to give him none. His foot steps became silent. As were his breathing and the rest of his movements. He smiled at the obviously tensed up figure in front of him, waiting in silence. Bond marvelled for what felt like the hundredth time in the trust Q was showing him by surrendering to him just like that.

When he couldn't draw the moment out any longer, Bond touched Q's left hand - the side where Q had not expected Bond - as the genius jerked away. Having revealed his position, Bond sat down next to Q's head and dedicated his attention to those hands.

Since the arms were stretched out, they were the only moveable limbs left. So Bond pressed them down into the sheets and held them there by the fingertips with one hand, while he applied the lightest strokes to them with his other hand. With his digit, Bond traced down the inner sides of Q's spread fingers, alongside knuckles and down the back of his hand in between the bones. As a reaction to the small and sensitive touches, goose bumps rose on Q's skin, down his forearm, alongside the never-stopping finger. He had to catch his breath. And then the finger turned back the way it came, moving in a parallel line.

Bond repeated this until he had covered all the weak spots of flesh he was able to find. Q's fingers twitched from time to time, when the tickling feeling became unbearable and he felt the need to scratch at every spot Bond had touched. But Bond was unrelenting and held the fingers in place. The whole exercise was strangely focusing for Q's mind and he almost forgot where he was and why, the only thing that consumed his mind was the urge to get his fingers loose and scratch.

Bond seemed to read his mind because from somewhere suddenly came some laces that Bond used to mercilessly tie Q's fingers together in a position as if he were praying. Now he couldn't bend or even flex his fingers anymore. If Bond went on like that, there was soon nothing left to be tied together, Q thought dryly. But he said nothing.

Obediently he let Bond assert his will. When the agent got up Q became aware that the lacking stimulation of the rest of his body had done nothing to discourage his errection. In fact, he felt the sheets slightly getting wet from precome where he was leaning into it. Bond now attended to the rest of his body caressing with his fingers the skin down his spine, over his unharmed arse cheek, down the underside of his thigh, alongside his calves and back up again.

With all his available senses focused on Bond, Q felt the goose bumps rise everywhere the agent's fingers went. Q relaxed and let himself enjoy the tender touches that were so thoughtfully applied to his body. He let out a contented sigh. All the sweet caresses burned long after Bond's fingers had moved on. But all Q could do was to occasionally twitch and squirm.

With the unrelenting restraints and the hard slaps earlier, this was a contrast so bewildering that it soon became unbearable. All the sensations felt more intense, the lighter the touch became. Q needed release. At the beginning he would have been fine with scratching his skin raw. But now it became so much that he began to struggle against the restraints, and by doing so he accidentally rubbed his cock against the bed sheets. And it ignited a spark in him that made him want more, so much more! So he started rubbing, since he was unable to do anything else. _Fuck pride._

"Aaaaahh..." It felt so good, and Q didn't care what Bond would think. He needed this.

Bond - surprised at the sudden change into action - could only watch. Ever the pragmatic Quartermaster of MI6 he had found a way to help himself, even with his limited possibilities. Bond had to huff out a laugh. That made Q stop for a moment, remembering that he wasn't alone and now that the spell was somehow broken, he wasn't sure, if he should or could go on.

But of course, Bond took that decision away from him. He pressed Q down with one forearm to efficiently immobilize his moving hips. Knowing that he was defeated again, Q grunted, miffed.

As much as Bond liked that game, there was plenty of occasions to draw this out further. Now, he figured, it was time to give Q the release he deserved. What that was like for Q was what Bond wanted to see most, after all.

He stroked over Q's bum once with his free hand in order to prepare Q mentally and then lowered it to Q's entrance. The lube that had been applied in the first place had been dripping down. So Bond used some more of it to make it easier to insert his fingers again. When Q realized that Bond at last turned back to stimulating his hole, he sighed quietly.

\-------

Bond always imagined Q to be the silent type in bed. So the uninhibited noises coming from the young man either were due to Bond's skills or the intensity of this being the first time for Q. If it was both, that just worked as well for Bond. He relished in Q's passionate outbursts.

\-------

Q all but screamed. Of course, Bond would NOT just let him come. No, of course he had to tease him into oblivion. His fingers went in and out, spread his entrance, stroked, even scratched, but all Q wanted was to feel him touch that one spot again! _Pleasepleaseplease..._

And he was sure Bond knew exactly what he wanted and needed. But Q wouldn't give in to that. No, he wouldn't ask. He was much too prou-

"Aaaaahhh!!!" He had to exhale twice, then swallow. The imploration was on his lips. Bond had dipped his finger there, just for a milli second, and it was enough to rattle Q completely. It added to the hot sensitive feeling around his entrance and where Bond so thoroughly worked his fingers. Unconsciously his muscles contracted around the two fingers that were lingering within. Waiting like a snake to attack when Q was most unaware.

"Was there something you wanted to say, Q?" Bond inquired smugly. Q pressed his lips together.

"Mmmmmh." He groaned and shook his head, tormented.

"It seems to me that you also have a little masochistic tendencies! - Why don't we just put that on the list: 'orgasm denial'?!" Bond had the time of his life, grinning diabolically.

All Q could do was whimper at that and Bond moved forward to kiss Q on his neck, softly and taking his time. Despite the maddening treatment, the heat and the sweat, Q was overwhelmed by the gentle caress. He let out a sob. Not for the first time, he wanted to rip free of those bloody restraints to turn around and kiss Bond back, to take the initiative and sink into him. But again, there was nothing he could do except for receiving passively what Bond deigned to give.

However, this time Bond thought it was enough, he couldn't hold back much longer anyway. He attacked Q's prostate fiercely now, just to draw back again instantly. Leaving the panting mess that was Q no pause he circled it again, pressed down, stroked lightly and again. Then additionally, he gripped Q's cock with his other hand, stroking down gently, rubbing the tip with his thumb. The lube almost brought no friction, but Q was so hard, this was so new, he was about to come. He bucked forward as much as he could and groaned loudly.

And then Bond squeezed his hand tight around the base of Q's cock. And THEN Q lost control.

"PLEASEEE BOND - pleaaaaassse - James, James, Ja- " He sobbed now, writhing violently. "Let me...let me come _please_..." Bond - hands unmoving - leaned forwards to press his body down on Q, breathing softly on his neck and waited until Q calmed down a bit.

"That's just cruel, James! Why won't you let me finish?" He asked pleadingly.

"Would you like to come like this, or would you want me inside you?" Bond whispered in Q's ear quietly. Q went still. Slowly he turned his head to the side as if in an attempt to look at Bond, but the blindfold was still in place.

"Please, with you inside me." He answered just as calmly. The agent leaned forward just a little bit further to kiss Q on the cheek and when Q strained himself to turn further, their mouths locked in a heated kiss. When they broke it, breathing hard, Bond withdrew his fingers to put on a condom and carefully positioned himself in front of Q's now pliant entrance.

Soothingly stroking Q's bum, he slowly pushed forward. Q, needy as he was, offered no resistence. When he was inside, both of them sighed deeply. Then steadily Bond pushed forward. It felt so strange to Q. He wouldn't ever have imagined it to feel like that. He was so filled and in a good way. And with James he felt safe enough to relax. He wouldn't hurt him, he was careful. Q trusted him.

As Bond pushed further and further, Q felt the heat again, both James' and his own, rising until it almost became too much.

"Please, move, now." He grunted.

Obligingly, Bond started thrusting. Both of them moaned. Bond didn't dare pick up the pace, but he thought he wouldn't need to. He was already close. _Damn, that boy._

He took Q's cock again and pumped it.

It did not take very much. Q - trying and failing to move his hands, arms, legs, hips, _anything_ , in order to ground himself somehow - went almost mad from the immovability. And at the thought of being completely at the mercy of one James Bond, he came with a loud groan, devoid of any reservations.  His muscles all clenched, the heat took over and it burnt through his body. It was such a bliss. Shakily, he rode out the aftermath, while Bond kept going and Q felt glorious for being just used. It was so dirty and it felt so good. Finally when Bond came, he stopped his movements. He couldn't bear to move right now. His orgasm was so overwhelming, he couldn't remember last time that was so good. Then the both of them just breathed, recovering slowly.

After a while Bond pulled out and started to untie Q and removed the blindfold. Q blinked at the sudden light, and then said:

"So much for 'Don't worry about sex just yet'..." Bond looked at him surprised, and then let out a barking laugh at the dry remark.

"You sure didn't seem to mind. Or even worry."

Q showed a cheeky smile.

"No, I did not."

When Bond was done, he helped Q up and on the bed. He got in himself and pulled the blankets over them.

"Thank you." Q said after a while and snuggled close to Bond. "For not laughing at my inexperience. And for what you did for me today."

"You are very welcome, Q." Bond answered warmly and pulled him close.

Right before Q fell asleep, he thought he heard Bond add:

"And tomorrow, we'll see how much of that riding crop you can really take."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That looks like a good ending doesn't it?! :D


	5. Chapter 5

Epilogue

 

A few days later Q was once again working at his station in Q-Branch and was highly concentrated. He didn’t even think back to the weekend he had spent with Bond. To the new experiences he had made. Or the way Bond – James - went about his initial insecurity… The way he pushed him further with the pain, trying out all the different whips, keeping him on the edge for hours, until Q would go insane and beg… - Nope, not once did he let his mind wander. He was professional and therefore wouldn’t let those memories influence his workplace behavior. And so he did decidedly NOT flinch when suddenly 008 appeared right next to him.

“Hello Q, what are you working on there? Got new gadgets for me?” The cheeky bastard had to try it every time!

Irritated by the way the agent was invading his personal space, he snapped:

“No, I’ve got nothing for you. Gadgets are not for personal amusement anyway, but for missions only. And you know that, I’ve told you a hundred times!”

Annoyed at the sharp rejection, the agent tried a different advance. Without any warning he gripped Q by the hair and pulled his head back.

Q gasped in shock and for a split second it flashed through his mind how Bond had done just that the weekend before, in his bed with Q leaning into the touch. For that moment there he forgot himself and let out a sigh.

“So it’s true! You really are that kind of little slut, aren’t you?!” 008 demanded, pulling harder.

Q hissed, both because 008 now had pulled out a few hairs and at those words. He was still new to the idea of submission and insecure about it being a part of him. So the insult stung even more. He grimaced and his face must have shown his emotional hurt, because the agent laughed maliciously and whispered in Q’s ear:

“So if I’ll let you suck my cock on your knees right here, it will be a reward for you… Then I suggest you better get to work and make me something nice and shiny!”

Q-Branch watched in shock.

Q couldn’t retort something, a single tear running down his face. If it was because of the grip or the words, he couldn’t even say. His mouth remained shut, while he tried to get loose from 008’s death grip. He didn’t know what to do to defend himself, so he thought that maybe his only way out of this was to indeed giving in to 008. He was on the verge of doing just that when –

“What the hell do you think you’re doing there?”

A very low voice came from behind and deadly silence fell.

Bond had appeared out of nowhere. 008 froze. The Quartermaster still in his grip he slowly turned around to face Bond, who stared back, face a mask. The only sign of his anger showing in his razor sharp eyes.

“Well? I suggest you let go of your superior instantly and get the hell out of here, before I tear you in pieces!”

The Double-Ohs and their threats…

008 let out a deep growl and pressed Q tighter only to shove him into the next wall the moment after. Q violently crushed against the wall and then slumped down on the floor whimpering. Before 008 could blink he was on the floor and what to say, Bond beat him up nicely.

As soon as 008 was no longer moving and unconscious, he told the closest standing minions to get security and then turned to Q, who was cowering on the floor and clasping his forehead. The impact had resulted in a laceration. And just for that Bond wanted to get up again and kill the other man.

“Please stay with me, James.” Q was shaken, and Bond took him in his arms.

“Of course, Q, whatever you want.” Bond said softly. “I won’t let anyone near you.”

“Thank you.” Q said and looked Bond in the eyes. They were full of trust and gratitude, and then in front of everyone, Q kissed him.


End file.
